


Inkblot

by salmonpatty



Category: Naruto
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Gen, Haruno Sakura-centric, POV Haruno Sakura, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-26
Updated: 2016-06-26
Packaged: 2018-07-18 08:00:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7306540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salmonpatty/pseuds/salmonpatty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It made sense when Naruto put it into perspective; everything always did. It was easy being Sakura and being angry. They often seemed to go hand in hand. It was harder, though, to be Sakura and to come to terms with any other refined emotion. [Sakura-centric mostly, headcanon-based writing on how Sakura processes feelings]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Because I like Sakura coming to realizations with the help of Naruto – I headcanon her as someone who is not fully capable of doing so by herself, for whatever reason.

“You know you don’t have the right to hate him.”

Sakura flinched at the sentence, because it wasn’t really a question. For some reason, it was always Naruto’s words that struck the hardest blows into her walls; while Kakashi might have always know the right thing to say, it was Naruto that seemed to be able to see inside you. He was a fiery ball of truth, and she felt like she was burning under his blue-hot gaze.

She faltered, and stammered out an affirmative, “I know. I know that.”

He grunted and they kept walking.

The entire way to Sand country, Sakura dragged her feet through the dunes. Naruto noticed, but he didn’t say anything. He always noticed everything ( _like a good ninja should_ ), and Sakura came to the realization that maybe she wasn’t as perceptive as she thought. Each line in the sand served as another reminder of how far away Sasuke was. He always seemed to be on a completely different level than her. A few years ago, she thought he eluded his entire team, but it turned out Naruto and Kakashi understood Sasuke better than she ever could. It was _frustrating_. Sasuke and Naruto would always talk of how the greatest ninja can communicate through fighting, but how about her? How about the girl that slams her fist to the ground in hopes of feeling connected to something, anything? Even when her fists crush a man’s head in mid-air and his brains scatter on the ground behind him in a Rorschach pattern, she can’t read a thing. How about the girl that punched a hundred trees when she realized he was gone for good? She did remember feeling the pain reverberating through her forearms into her chest, like she was struck by lightning, but she can’t remember why the tears came.

Naruto wasn’t always there for her, after all. He couldn’t be, because that boy was a goddamned saint and had about a trillion other people to help. Sure, he’d remind her that no one was as important as Sakura-chan, but it didn’t stop a swelling feeling rising from her stomach to her chest. It wasn’t pleasant. When she asked what that could possibly be, Naruto slapped her on the back and laughed out on a breath, “That’s jealousy.” Oh, right. She remembered that emotion – how she felt whenever Naruto and Sasuke fought each other and _not_ her, because it always looked so oddly intimate and she wanted to be a part of them, everything, always. It made sense when Naruto put it into perspective; everything always did. It was easy being Sakura and being angry. They often seemed to go hand in hand. It was harder, though, to be Sakura and to come to terms with any other refined emotion.

As Sakura lay in a cot that night, a moment of clarity crossed her, recollecting a festival in the Leaf Village. Sasuke was standing next to her, as he often did back then, and his eyes were on the night sky, which was illuminated with colorful flashes and patterns of light. The fireworks reflected in his dark, burnt umber eyes. It was easy to hate him now, and it was even easier to love him for who he was back then – beautiful, handsome, sweet in certain moments… A child prodigy who only ever showed his soft kindness to her and a kitten or two, in crossing. Sakura wrestled with this thought, with the memory of those fireworks in his eyes, his look of wonderment against lightly sun-kissed, summer skin.

His life was not completely hers, and she had no right to hate him for who he was now, or who he would be in a hundred years. She loved him in juxtaposition to herself in the past-tense, but for now, she loved him as he was in the present, standing somewhere far away, alone.

Naruto gingerly grabbed her hand before they both drifted off, and let go just after.

“We’ll be with him again, soon.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reminder of Sakura’s subconscious judgement to the members of their team was painful and awkward. He had told her often how he wished that she could forget who they were entirely, which she admittedly, never fully understood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love seeing Sakura get shut down… I love Sakura, period. Also, I’d like to believe Sasuke wanted kids waaaay before Sakura did. For multiple reasons.

It was ramen night at the Haruno-Uchiha household, because Naruto had been out of town for a long while now, and admittedly, the couple missed him. Sasuke abruptly looked up from his ramen, as abruptly as Uchiha Sasuke can look up, anyways. With his free hand, he stuck a finger at Sakura, pointedly, and put her patience to the test the moment he started his rebuttal. “You’re extremely smart, but you don’t understand social situations thoroughly. None of us do, really, except for maybe Naruto, and that’s the sad part. Sorry, but you’re wrong on this one.” Sasuke knew better than to tell his presumed fiancée that she was wrong, but to sit idly by while someone he cared so strongly about believed something so ill of truth was impossible. He looked back down at his bowl of food promptly, quickly enough to avoid Sakura’s flaming eyes.

Sakura had mentioned Hinata, in passing, and how maybe she wasn’t the best for Naruto. Again – it was in passing. Her reasoning was strong, Sakura figured. She knew Hinata a lot better than most would figure. Hinata was a kind soul, and she had always cared for Naruto. Hell, Sakura had supported her through the entirety of it. Recently, though, the blooming of their relationship seemed almost too fast.

“I don’t know if I’d say I’m wrong, Sasuke. You have to admit they’re going fast, I mean, they’re already thinking about kids. Does Naruto really have time to raise a child? He’s training to be Hokage as we speak,” Sakura exclaimed through a frustrated grimace. It was all Sasuke could do not to smirk as their food was forgotten over the ensuing argument.

“Sakura, this is Naruto. He will make time,” Sasuke picked his chopsticks back up, a sign of finality.

“It’s not that simple. Children are hard to raise, they need attention, love, and care to grow up soundly!” Sakura’s outburst turned to a stage-whisper when she realized what she had just said, and to whom.

“Hinata,” Sasuke’s monotone, over a curt slurp of noodles.

The reminder of Sakura’s subconscious judgement to the members of their team was painful and awkward. He had told her often how he wished that she could forget who they were entirely, which she admittedly, never fully understood. Her world was left spinning for a moment or two, before she oriented herself by pressing her palms to the dinner table.

“Well, I’m going to bed. I have an early shift tomorrow.”

“Goodnight.”

* * *

 

About a week later, Naruto was home, and Sakura rejoiced in the warmth her friend sent back into her world. The past few days had been a damp, chilly blur. It had rained in the Leaf Village almost the entire week previously, and the ground was left saturated. Each step Sakura remembered taking to and fro work was miserable, the hospital was cold and frigid, and there was no Sasuke when she was home to gingerly rub the mud from her woven sandals. He had gone on a trip to the Sand to help finish what Naruto had started on reparations from the war, which seemed like such a distant past at this point.

The morning of Naruto’s arrival, Sakura organized a dinner with Hinata, Ino, Sai, and Kakashi. They were to surprise Naruto at Ichiraku that evening, and treat him to a dinner at the boy’s dearest, nearest restaurant. The dinner went well enough, and a few of the group (meaning, Naruto and Sakura) agreed to go to drinks afterwards; Sakura had told Naruto previously that she needed to talk to him and catch up. The blonde happily agreed, and the two bounced off to a bar known for serving stronger drinks for ninjas with a faster metabolism than most.

Sakura, fully intending to get hammered in Sasuke’s absence, downed three shots within the first thirty minutes of their arrival. The warmth vibrating throughout her body felt exquisite, and she couldn’t wait to go back to her shared apartment and pass out on the empty bed. Sasuke wouldn’t be there to sigh when she drunkenly looped her legs in between his. She swallowed. The thought was threatening to take her night on a turn for the worse, wherein she would end up sobbing in Naruto’s lap. She slowed down after a quick trip to the bathroom to sober her up, and after realizing the room seemed to be spinning. Back in her seat, she turned her body to face him and gave Naruto a very controlled glare.

“What’s up, Sakura?” He placed his hand on her head.

“I think I upset Sasuke before he left.”

“Oh, yeah?” Naruto peered at Sakura over his drink with feigned surprise.

“We had a disagreement. I said the wrong thing, as usual, and oh _gods_ , I just can’t seem to think before I say something stupid.”

A moment of silence fell between the two of them as Sakura curled her toes under themselves anxiously. Naruto opened his mouth, a beat passed, and he closed it with furrowed eyebrows. He raised a finger, and began, “… Do you mean like, now? Or earlier? I’m confused.”

Sakura let out a dramatic groan, and the thud her head made against the table resounded through the wood down to a customer on the other end of the bar. “I meant I wasn’t thinking when I said something to Sasuke, and I _shouldn’t_ have.”

“You really shouldn’t worry about it, Sakura. It’s you and Sasuke, you know he can’t hold anything against you.” Naruto left out the part, ‘even if he should,’ at the end, because a drunk, angry Sakura was impossible to handle, even for a future Hokage.

“You guys always talk like this. You always say, ‘It’s Sasuke,’ or ‘It’s Naruto,’ like that’s supposed to mean something to me.” Sakura huffed, and placed her face in her crossed arms on the cool wood of the bar. Naruto’s hand found the small of her back, and pulled her closer in a friendly embrace.

“I’m positive it’s fine. You gotta trust me on this,” Naruto thunked his head against hers, and moved his hand up to pat her shoulders with a wide palm.

Sakura found herself back in her apartment and sobered up about an hour later. She buried herself in comforters and blankets, latched onto Sasuke’s pillow (still smelled of his thick, pitch coal hair), and perused through a book on emergency ANBU medical procedures before falling asleep that night.


End file.
